I catch up with several people online. We are all looking forward to moving into Level Two tomorrow, even the more introverted ones.

We are planning a quick surprise trip tomorrow to my home town to reunite our children with their grandparents. They have missed each other greatly. Zoom hasn’t worked for my kids, they only last a minute or two on a call with family, but they have been asking and asking when they can go to Whanganui, and when is it okay to hug Grandpa again?

The government reports zero COVID-19 cases again. This doesn’t stop a lot of fearful posts about social distancing etc on Facebook. Understandably many people will be anxious about venturing out again.

After almost 9 weeks in isolation I am more than ready to get out there. Whilst my time in lockdown hasn’t all been bad, it hasn’t been a cake walk either. I am looking forward to moving about freely, seeing my friends again, hugging my family. If there is one I have learned through all of this, it is that am not designed for the life of a hermit.

I am however, very grateful that New Zealand is on its way to stamping out the virus. This has come at a huge sacrifice to the livelihoods of many, and we will have to deal with effects of this for a long time to come.

The need to shop locally has been highlighted like never before for me, and I plan to make future purchases with even more care and deliberation. If the skies in Delhi and LA can clear and the canals of Venice return to blue, we have been shown how the collective actions of individuals can impact the environment for better. My family plans to double our efforts to reduce our waste and carbon footprint.

Mostly, I think I need time to process this whole event. It’s not until I get distance that I can see the lessons learned during a situation, and this has been an event of Biblical proportions.

I am woken by my very excited children; ready to give me breakfast in bed and some presents for Mother’s Day. After breakfast my son climbs in bed for a snuggle.

“Why don’t you get a book for us to read together?” I say.

He comes back with ‘Where’s Kiwi Celebrating?’, which is basically a New Zealand version of Where’s Wally/Waldo, and we go cross-eyed trying to find all the characters. They are definitely not the books for you if you have an eyesight problem!

Like many mums, I had bought my own gift. Not because Rev G is useless, but this year it was because I was ordering things for our homeschool anyway and we may as well save on postage. I bought myself a ‘new’ Sherlock Homes book (a homage, or pastiche book by a modern author), and am looking forward to getting stuck into it. It looks pretty decent.

My Mother’s Day morning is so much like the ones I remember for my own mother. Beautiful, handmade cards. My son’s reads: Mum To Daniel From. Adorable, he’s only five, and getting the words in order isn’t exactly a priority when you are five. The children wrap some of their own things to give to me: I get some Transformers to play with, and a necklace and two pencils. I am given a small box of chocolates, which the children are almost drooling on as they pass it to me – so naturally they get the lion’s share when the box is opened.

The rest of the day is lovely too. Church is well attended. I had pre-recorded a children’s talk where I do my best Suzy Cato impression. It goes over well. We are all hopeful that tomorrow we will hear the country is moving into Level Two on Thursday. Almost everyone in the congregation plans to return to worshipping together if that happens. They are eager to see each other again.

I had ordered my own mother’s gift back in March before lockdown and it has not arrived. I get some supermarket treats delivered instead, and she is thrilled to discover it includes some neenish tarts – her favourites. I am relieved that everything in the order is actually included as Whanganui supermarkets seem to be particularly bad for having things in stock. I hear similar reports from other friends in different parts of Wellington too, but our local supermarkets have managed to have almost everything in stock.

Rev G and the kids visit Rev G’s step-mum. Rev G’s father passed away almost a year ago now, and she is lonely rattling around in their big house on her own. Her loss has only been exacerbated by lockdown. I don’t go with the others, only because I had already arranged an online catch-up with a friend, but I am looking forward to seeing my MiL soon.

I spend some quiet time sitting in the sun, reading my new book, thinking this is just what I wanted for Mother’s Day.

We rush around in a frenzy, tidying up the detritus of two months in lockdown. We have an important visitor arriving soon, the first person to ‘break our bubble’!

It’s…the handyman.

It is non-stop excitement around here, I tell ya. Our roof sprung a leak in the deluge last Sunday, and our kitchen sink is coming away from the bench. Our landlords have a great relationship with a local builder who did heaps of work on the house for them before we moved in, and he is more than happy to come around to take a look.

“Can we touch him?” asks Master D.

I don’t recall Master D ever being in the habit of embracing tradespeople in a hug before lockdown, but it’s a fair question.

“No”, I say. “But if you keep your distance, you might be able to see him at work”.

His little face lights up, doubtless thinking about all the awesome tools tradies have.

Ah, lockdown life.

Thursday is a much better day.

The kids do a bit of school work, and some art, and somehow the morning is gone.

I turn on the TV, eagerly waiting for Jacinda Ardern to update us as to what Level Two will look like.

It is great news. When we move into Level Two is yet to be decided. But at Level Two means school will go back, most businesses can operate, and we are free to travel domestically again. Libraries, swimming pools, art galleries and museums can open again, and we can ‘break’ our bubbles to see our friends and family once more – although we all need to keep practising social distancing with strangers.

Roll on Level Two!

Whether we move into Level Two next Wednesday night, or remain at Level Three a bit longer, is for the boffins to decide. I am incredibly grateful we are almost at the point where we can ease off restrictions. I talk with a friend who lives in Oklahoma, USA where the virus has a hold but many people aren’t taking it seriously. She’s been in self-isolation for two months already, and the end is not in sight. She tells me that in her city some workers at McDonald’s were shot because a customer was angry that they couldn’t dine in! Can you imagine???

On Friday I hear that I have got the job I applied for, yay! It’s only part-time, and whether it continues after a few months is up to securing a grant. But for now, I will be working for one of the churches in my suburb doing their communications. I’m looking forward to getting stuck into the work. It is a small church, but they do some cool things.

We have a dance party to celebrate, and we finally get out to the beach.

I cannot tell you how much I have missed the beach. When Rev G and I were considering where we might move to when his internship finished, we had considered Hamilton – but the fact that it is landlocked was a big X for me. I don’t have to live right at the beach, but like many Kiwis, I take having access to a beach almost as a fundamental right. We are very lucky – I remember many of my schoolmates in Kansas had never seen the ocean in real life before.

Anyway, we all love the trip out to the beach, even though our local one is a bit crappy. It’s black sand, but mostly stones, and it’s almost always windy there, given its close proximity to the Cook Strait.

Miss E, I swear is part-mermaid, and she runs into the embrace of the waves like she would greet an old friend. The water is freezing, but she pays it no mind. Master D decides to exercise by digging a hole and by filling his pockets with the beach stones. I guess it’s a form of weight-lifting?

Rev G and I realise that the last time we were at the this beach was 9 years prior, just before we got engaged. It feels like a lifetime ago; I mean that in a good way. The beach is not busy but the walking track nearby it is packed. I’d like to take a walk there myself, but I can’t see how any of the walkers can possibly keep the 2m distance we’re supposed to. I will definitely leave it for Level Two.